The Naming
by sarramaks
Summary: Flack recalls what it is like to be a nervous teenager. Flack/Angell one shot.


_Thank you to those who read and reviewed Distance and the preceeding one shots, and In Half Lit Worlds, a Mac/Stella fic. You don't need to have read any of those to understand this, but it does follow on. This is a one-shot, but is also the prologue to a new case fic,_ Sleep Tonight,_ which should be up in a few days._

_Sonnet Lacewing and Lily Moonlight - thank you for your beta-ing! You are stars!_

_Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing._

The Naming

Stars had just begun to pierce through the evening sky when he arrived at his destination; the neon lights which punctuated the city were flickering on and already droves of people were heading to Manhattan's bars and restaurants. The thought flickered through his mind as to how many of them would end up in the morgue by the end of the night, but he pushed it to one side, admitting to himself that working with Sid Hammerback was finally affecting his sanity. Flack nodded briefly at the superintendent as he entered the apartment block. He had trodden the steps to the apartment many times already, although tonight the circumstances were different, circumstances which were making him check his attire through the shiny surface in the elevator and causing palpitations in his chest. However much he tried to tell himself that this was just Angell, and that they'd been out lots of times before he still felt nervous. Even buying flowers – which he knew she'd laugh at – had made him feel like an inexperienced teenager, fumbling with the change and almost dropping the lilies onto the sidewalk. The tender had smirked at him, and only nerves had stopped Flack from trying to bust him for something.

The knock on the door seemed inaudible compared to the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. No answer. The pounding got louder as he tapped again, wondering if she'd come to her senses and had decided to stand him up. He was just about to knock a third time when the door opened and Angell stood there. He didn't notice what she was wearing, just that she looked extremely good, a sight that didn't do anything to appease his nerves.

"You okay, Flack?" she said, nothing resembled nerves visible anywhere on her persona.

"You look good," he said, trying to pull himself together and not sound like some acne-faced youth faced with his nightly fantasy. "These are for you." He handed her the lilies and she headed into her apartment, leaving the door open for him to enter.

"You may as well come in while I put them in water," she said, clearly amused at him and not trying to hide it. "I didn't figure you for a flowers guy."

He hung around at the entrance. "I like to make a good impression. Not," he said, finally managing to ground himself, "that I have done so far."

"I think you've done pretty well. You look good, you complimented me and you brought flowers. Even the nerves have a certain endearing quality to them," she said, the flowers now centred on the breakfast bar. She picked up her purse and headed back over to him, reaching up and pressing her lips to his cheek. "Thank you for the flowers."

"You're welcome," he said, smiling and remembering that just because the circumstances of their socialising were different didn't mean that she had changed at all. "You okay with walking?"

"I can drive," she said. "I got a phone call about an hour a go asking me if I could go on call so I won't be having a drink."

He nodded. "Me too. There's some nasty bug going round. I think all the cops in the precinct are either at work, on call or in the bathroom. So that's both of us drinking lemonade."

The door was pulled with a bang and locked securely. Like most cops, Angell took few risks with security. She then proceeded to thread her arm through his, suppressing a smile as he tensed up. "Why are you so nervous?" she said with half a laugh.

Flack shrugged. "I guess I'd just like it to go well," he said. "And you look good."

"Would it help if I went back and got changed into uniform?" she said. "Or that dress?"

He laughed loudly this time. "You kept the dress?"

"Turns out vice didn't want it back," she said. "I turned down their offer of the blonde wig though."

They left the apartment block, and Flack felt his heart rate slow, abating his fear of having a heart attack. Their conversation was like normal, and he began to forget that this was a 'date' and not a normal drinks-after-work session. The evening sky had completed its makeover, and was now black coal, the rest of the city alive in lights and calls and laughter.

The restaurant he had chosen was too close to her apartment to warrant driving. It was also close enough to the station in case either of them did get a call to go in, something he hoped wouldn't happen, but knew that it was more than likely. Unfortunately, the murderers of New York City did not seem to be affected by sickness, and rarely took a day off.

"Nice place," Angell said as she sat down. "You eaten here much?"

Flack laughed. This was one restaurant he was very familiar with. It was too close to work to have not been there often, frequently in the early hours of the morning when he was in need of a snack, and the manager, Ho Ting Chu, was only too happy to oblige with whatever leftovers were available. "This is a good source of nourishment between two and five in the morning. Rat-free food guaranteed."

She smiled. "I'll be all old-fashioned then, and let you choose for me," she put the menu down. "I imagine you've tried most of the menu."

"And I can highly recommend all of it," he said, placing his menu down with hers. "In fact, I'll just let Ho Ting choose for the pair of us."

"One of my brothers is coming down next weekend," Angell said. "He's bringing his girlfriend for a shopping weekend. Mom's expecting a big ring to be bought so she can buy a new hat."

Flack nodded. "And you're telling me this so…" he raised his eyebrows and let her finish his sentence. So far she had been reserved in the mocking of him being jealous. It hadn't helped that Danny had told her in great detail about his lack of appetite; he was expecting that topic to come up at some point.

"So you don't think I'm involved in a ménage-a-trios," she said. "As I'm pretty sure that's what will be reported back."

He laughed. That would certainly be a story with potential around the precinct. "Are they staying with you?"

"For three nights," she said, rolling her eyes. "He's the brother closest to me in age – Jay – and the one I least get along with."

"You're on the couch then?" his brain ticked over into ominous territory.

"Unfortunately. My mother will probably try to ground me if I give them the couch. He always was her favourite," she said, pushing up one of the thin straps that were holding up her dress.

"Stay at mine," he found himself offering, trying to make himself seem nonchalant and relaxed. "I'm not being seedy – I have a spare room you are more than welcome to."

She smiled; the same smile she had given him when he had told her she looked good in a vest. "I might take you up on that offer," she said. "As long as you're not put off your food."

"Don off his food?" an elderly Chinese man appeared at their table. "I have yet to see that. What can I get for you?"

Flack ordered, specifying a couple of things he knew were good and would regret not ordering, leaving the rest up to Ho Ting, who wandered back to the kitchen with surprising agility as he dodged hurried waiters and a drunken couple.

"So this is where you've disappeared off to in the middle of a night shift," Angell said. "I wondered why you always came back looking satisfied." He found himself blushing at her insinuation and she laughed. "I'm teasing, Flack."

"I know," he said. "I've never been out with anyone before who can talk me under the table." He caught her gaze, feeling spellbound as the light in her eyes danced brighter than the flickering candle that graced the center of the table

"When you meet Jay you'll realise what I had to compete with," she said. "If you want to meet him, that is." She looked tentatively at him, and he suspected that she felt she'd been too forward and was trying to put the brakes on.

"I'll meet him, Jess," he said. "As long as he won't try and interrogate me."

She smiled, the candlelight catching the contours of her features, dancing shadows across her skin and for a moment she was a heroine in a movie, and he was merely watching the big screen. The noise from the kitchen and other diners faded into the background, a backing track as he focused on her, the brush of her fingers on his making him a player and blasting real life out of the picture. Right now there was only the two of them, absorbing the light from the candle as the wax trickled down, nothing else mattered. Nothing else was.

"Don," she said, breaking the spell she had cast. "I think Mac's just come in."

Flack looked behind him and saw the older detective, a grim look on his face, one that spoke of tiredness and frustration.

"I'm sorry," Mac said, once close enough. "I know you're not meeting to speak about work. We've got a DB in the precinct and a shortage of detectives. The cell network is down so I couldn't call you and I knew you were here. Like I said, I'm sorry."

They both stood up, sending a look of regret between them. Ho Ting offered to drop their meals round at the precinct and Flack nodded gratefully as he followed Angell out of the restaurant. "Jess," he said quietly, not wanting Mac to hear. She turned to him. "You used my first name."

When the cool, night air hit him, he was transported back to the real world, leaving behind that dream-like-state he'd slipped into in the restaurant. Flack rushed across the streets toward the precinct, the cacophony of cars, pedestrians, music, and wind through the Manhattan streets calling for the policeman in him. The girl in the dress alongside him reacted to the same sounds, and when their eyes locked, the flicker of attraction was put on hold. Right now they were two cops with a job to do, and anything else would have to wait.

_Please review!_


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